Batman vs The Big Bad Wolf
by Tegan Hill
Summary: Stiles falls head over heels so easily but being lost in a world of werewolves and all their drama leave little time for a love life. Tegan is at the tips of his fingers and slipping away; in Derek's direction. When everything falls apart and Tegan is used as bait to hook Derek by the alphas...who's going to be the one to save her?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: These characters are not my own, their personalities are taken from Teen Wolf (an MTV production) by no means do I claim any ownership.

/

A haze thick as mountain fog blurs her vision to the point of darkness. Voices, quiet whispers of mistakes and hushed cursing fill the room. Bound by wrists and ankles, her head hangs down with defeat; the unmistakable scent of rotting flesh consuming her every breath. Utter weakness of her body and mind leave her numb to the pain of which she would be sure to feel were she ever to be found. In low whimpers she occasionally mutters his name, each time she is met with the harshness of a fist to her jaw or a an object to the skull. The taste of copper fills her mouth, dried and new blood combing with her silvia… She's done nothing, spoken to no one yet they managed to find her; the alphas. No, she's not a monster. There is no venom crawling through her veins, no razor sharp teeth emerging from her jaw, she is human. They need her as bait, for /him/. 'He will come' they say, something she once believed for herself. But now hope only seems to deceive her…No one is coming.

/

Derek's brow glistens with a thin sweat, his feet carrying him back and forth across the foreclosed homes wooden floor. It's been too long she could be dead, he thinks, while both his hands rise to scrub down his weathered face. Their voices echo in full volume around the room; off each wall and against his ear drums. For as long as possible he ignores Stiles' snide remarks and Scott's hushing tone...

"Are we going to just sit here..? Derek-" Stiles rises from his seat with a hand extended, nearly pleading. "We can't just leave her there."

In an instant Derek forces his way around Scott, pinning all one hundred and forty-seven pounds of Stiles against the wall by his underarms. His voice is deep and threatening, but only because he is aware how right Stiles is. "Shut up, Stiles. We can't just go marching in there..." He releases him; only the sound of his body slumping against the wall is heard for the next several seconds, "They'll kill her. They'll kill us! Don't you get that?"

Stiles remains on the floor, his left hand rubbing gently against the opposite shoulder. Derek, whether it was an accident or not, had nearly broken the skin around his arms leaving a sore feeling that was unmatched by any sting he had ever felt. Stiles' eyes follow Scott and Derek around the room though he tones out their conversation with his own thoughts...

/

Tegan had been ripped right from Stiles' finger tips. He had her, he could of saved her...if he wasn't so weak. It haunts him every second of every day that she's missing; the look on her screaming face when she was dragged by the heels across the tiled floor, her nails dragging along to try and stop it. Derek didn't have a choice, not really. If he had Stiles assumes he would have grabbed Tegan and not himself.

Tegan Hill was just a year older than he and Scott, having transferred from some backwoods southern state to California; she ended up at Beacon Hills. Unfortunately she had inadvertently been introduced to Derek a few months ago, and for the first time Scott and Stiles were bewildered with Derek's actions. Derek took to her like a moth to flame, the two immediately becoming found of each other; despite Derek's age difference. Once again, Stiles was felt like he was a second choice. Only Tegan was more than aware of a sort of connection she and Stiles shared. He was weird and she liked it, even enjoyed his awkward stumbling and jumbled sentences filled with nerves. He made her smile, and that was a hard job.

/

And now? The three had no plan. No sense of just how entrapped they had become in the Argent's plan...


	2. Chapter 2

Flash back, three months ago.

/

Stiles runs to catch up with Scott on the way into school, his right arm swinging around his shoulders to tug him in. "Dude. Pa-leeease tell me you've seen the new girl." He wiggles his eyebrows, causing Scott to roll his eyes.

"No. And how do you know she's new?" Scott glances to his side, a questioning expression on his face.

"Uhh, because she said hi to me. She acknowledged my existence Scott, only a new girl would be that oblivious." Stiles' mouth hangs open a little, anticipating an agreement from Scott. All he receives is a short chuckle before Scott breaks off to enter his first class. "It's true!" Stiles yells after him his voice dimming towards the end of his words.

Stiles struggles to pay attention for the majority of the day, his usual ADHD on overload. With both eyes glued to the clock, he taps his pencil in a consistent beat until, finally, the bell rings. "YES!" Stiles jumps from his seat, hands flailing into the air; it doesn't take long for him to realize everyone around him is still seated. He just nods towards them, too excited to care what they think. Today Stiles was promised he could play first line in a scrimmage against their rival team, so what if it wasn't a real game; it still made him feel over the moon.

Stiles rushes to his jeep, flinging open the door to retrieve his newly laced lacrosse stick. Talking to himself up in the process, unaware that those around him were giving him the strangest looks. Not that he would have cared.

/

Tegan takes a deep breath, first days back at school were hard enough; a new school was like torture. She flattens out the front of her simple black dress and forces herself to give a fake smile in the side mirror of random car in the parking lot; with that she begins to stomp towards the entrance of Beacon Hills. She's practically blindsided by a boy who nearly runs face first into her, clearly not paying attention to where he was walking.

"Oh god, sor-...hi. Wow. Hi." He sputters out nervously, still trying to regain his posture.

"Hi..." Tegan smiles, a chuckle escaping her. /What a weirdo.../, she thinks as she continues onward to what she hoped was her first class.

The day seemed to drag on and on, particularly for her feet; which were clashing around in four inch heels. By lunch she couldn't take it anymore, they had to go. So she become that girl, the one who carries around her cute shoes; that are far too painful to wear. The last bell is like a saving grace, though the rush of other students disorientates her for several minutes. She does, however, find her way back to the student parking lot...

While she's stumbling to put her shoes back on, her head dips. She continues to walk forward while her fingers push on the heels of one shoe and then the other. Unfortunately by the time she looks up, she walks directly into the door of a jeep; toppling to the ground.

"Asshole!" She yells, her palm immediately reaching for her bloodied nose while the other pulls at the bottom of her dress; doing her best to get it to cover her exposed bottom half. To her horror the dress has ripped nearly the length of her entire side, forcing a light headed groan to roll off her tongue. "Damn it..."

Stiles hears the smack, closing the door at his side before taking notice of the girl flat on the ground before him, "Oh my god. Oh... shit." He drops his bag instantly to kneel beside her, both his hands awkwardly floating in the air; as he's unaware of how to help. He finally decides on reaching for his backpack and pulling out the old t-shirt he had planned on wearing under his uniform, he holds it out for her to use on her nose before finally speaking a fluent sentence, "I think your head dented my jeep!"

Tegan looks up at him from the ground, his face all too familiar for her. "You again? God, am I like your target for the day!?" She rips the shirt from his hands, holding it under nose while she tries not to let any tears fall. Everything hurt like hell.

"No...no, no, no. I'm so freaking sorry." That's when he notices her dress, his eyes bouncing from her exposed skin to the lacrosse field he so desperately needed to get to. Internally he was conflicted, pretty girl or first string; he assumed he would never get a second chance with either. "Shit..." He says again under his breath, his decision clearly already made for him. He digs into the bottom of his bag, pulling out his jersey. "Your um, your dress is ripping." He holds out the oversized jersey to her, a small smile trying to form on his lips.

Tegan looks up at him, the waterworks turning on. She wipes her eyes quickly, a breathy laugh escaping her. What a horrible day. There was no way she could refuse the clothing, walking around half naked (even at the end of her first day) couldn't help her social status. "Thanks..." She accepts Stiles' help to her feet, where he then stands facing the opposite direction while she pulls his jersey over her head, glancing at the name over his number briefly. It reaches the middle of her thighs, which is good enough for now; it was longer than her dress anyways. "Stilinksi?"

"Hm? What?" Stiles whips around to face her, his eyes gleaming when he looks her up and down in the Beacon Hills jersey. "Stiles, just...I'm Stiles." He says with a goofy smile, and body bouncing in a nod.

Tegan's brow furrows for a moment; /Stiles Stilinski? That's weird/, she thinks. "Tegan", she extends her scraped up hand with a halfhearted smile. "Thanks for the first day initiation, Stiles."


	3. Chapter 3

The next day Tegan takes the same route to school as the day before, a short cut through the woods and over the lacrosse field. The grass was still soaked from the previous nights rain causing her heels to sink deep into the mud. Day two and already going downhill, not to mention that it hadn't even hit eight am yet. With a huff she continues on her way, switching to the sidewalk that lead to the front of the school and stomping her feet against the cement to try and rid the shoes of mud. That's when she see's Stiles, practically drooling over some redhead like a dog over a dangling bone. Tegan tilts her head, watching other students like it was a movie; though her attention always seemed to come back to Stiles. She watches as the girl refuses to acknowledge him, walking directly past him into the school. "Ouch..." She accidentally says out loud while the sound of her heels clicking catches her attention. She glances down to find them nearly clean, "Thank god".

She avoids Stiles, even after seeing him shot down, by walking inside with a herd of other people. Tegan eventually finds her first class, math. Her most dreaded subject. She sits through the class without being able to pay attention, the numbers and letters mixing together just gave her a headache. Instead she focused her attention to the showcase of windows that came included in most of the rooms at Beacon Hills. Finally, a free period. Tegan drags her ridiculously heavy backpack into the library and nearly collapses her head against the desk. The not sleeping was beginning to catch up with her, and fast. She would have closed her eyes and remained in the library for the rest of the day if her dream like state wasn't interrupted by the squeaky voice of the red head from this morning. "JACKSON! Wait!" She demands, her voice ricocheting around in Tegan's brain. /Jesus. Shut up./ She thinks, pulling her backpack up onto the table to sort through her things. When she unzips it, she remembers shoving the jersey into the bottom and closes it quickly. /SHIT!/ She was going to have to speak to that little weirdo again.

Speaking of Stiles, he strolls into the room with his head hanging low and no little brunette boy stuck to his hip. Tegan tilts her head, a sting of sadness soaring through her; she didn't even know why, it's not like she knew him. She watches him for several more minutes, his gaze glued on the obnoxious girl with pretty hair and cute clothes. Tegan becomes frustrated for him, knowing the feeling of being invisible to someone. She suddenly finds herself on her feet, tugging the jersey out of her backpack and sauntering across the room to where Stiles sat.

He notices her immediately, taken somewhat off guard by her presence. "Hey. Hi. Tegan, hi." He slams his laptop shut, quickly settling his elbows over it, "what's up?" Tegan tilts her head and glances back at the red head who was seemingly intrigued by her presence near Stiles. Tegan's tongue rolls over her lips to wet them and she takes a deep breath, her next move a bold one.

With no teachers around, Tegan helps herself to Stiles' lap. He's completely frozen his hands at his sides as he stares up at her, his mouth cracked open. "...what are you.." Stiles can barely form a sentence, his eyes desperately trying to stay on hers to avoid making direct contact with her chest. Tegan smiles and reaches forward for his hands, placing them on her lower back. "Calm down, just go with it", she whispers quietly through pouty lips. Stiles follows directions incredibly well, his fingers taking nervous handfuls of the back of her shirt, still unable to close his mouth.

"You left this at my house last night", she holds up his jersey. Speaking a little louder than necessary, Tegan adjusts herself on Stiles lap. A leg on either side of his waist with one of her arms around his neck to brace herself. "And you didn't call. I missed you."

"I...yeah. Sorry..." Stiles hands flare up a little behind her back before landing back in their same position. The skin of his cheeks had started to feel hot and he was having a hard time swallowing while his eyes beamed into hers. Tegan could feel the uptight glares at her back, hoping some were coming from the red head Stiles seemed so infatuated with.

She leans forward, pressing her forehead against his. She finally looks into his eyes, which are filled with confusion and shock; with a hint of enjoyment. "Drive me home after school?," she states in her most seductive voice, trailing a finger under his jaw and down his chest, "pretty please?"

"Oh..oh my god." Stiles says quietly, his eyes blinking over and over. "Yes. Yeah...okay."

"Can't wait", She allows herself off his lap tossing the jersey in her place. Tegan walks past the table where who she assumed was Jackson and the red head sat, their mouths too cracked open in surprise. She winks at Jackson, merely to piss off his girlfriend.

As she's swinging her backpack over her shoulder, Tegan hears the unmistakable click clack of stilettos. She takes in a deep breath, twirling around slowly on the balls of her feet; only to find herself face to face with the luscious lipped beauty. "Can I help you..?", she mutters through a false smile.

"Nice shoes", the girl states as her finger drops into a point between their thin bodies, "I'm having a party tonight. You should come." She quirks her head as if Tegan had any other choice but to say yes. "It's Lydia, incase you didn't know." Again, her face and body language scream center of attention.

Tegan glances over Lydia's shoulder at an eager Stiles whose mouth still had yet to close all the way. He's leaning forward as far as he can in his seat, clearly awaiting an answer. "Only if I can bring him", Tegan nods towards Stiles who has now acquired a grateful smile, which she replies to with a wink.

"Stiles..?" Lydia pouts a little, turning only slightly to look at him. He waves by lifting his hand half off the laptop and greeting her stare with a lopsided smile. "Fine. It starts at eight."

Tegan only nods, brushing past Lydia and continuing her way into the hall. She finds herself unable to control the idiotic smile the forced itself across her lips. She was rather proud of herself in the last ten minutes, and hell, she had a date.


	4. Chapter 4

There's been a few changes in the first three chapters but they affect (effect?) the direction of the story, check them out quick before continuing!

/

Tegan is taken by surprise when she and Stiles arrive at Lydia's. There is so many people crowding her courtyard there is barely room to move around. It's awkward for Tegan, she only knows Stiles and even between them the conversation is limited; since the only reason they even talk it because Stiles practically killed her twice in one day. Tegan had thought she would be doing Stiles a favor, she assumed that by showing up with him Lydia would feel some form of jealously. That, as it turned out, was hopelessly false. She had spent the majority of the night with her tongue lost in Jackson's mouth. It wasn't an enjoyable sight, more like a train wreck; she just couldn't look away.

Scott had made a valiant effort to include Tegan in the conversation, explaining the rivalry between Beacon Hills and a few of the other lacrosse sporting schools in the district. She had zero interest in the game but, at least it passed the time. Stiles returns with five cups, all filled to the brim with a berry smelling liquid. Tegan watches as he comes stumbling through a crowd of people, one cup hanging from his teeth and the others balanced not so carefully in his hands; he gives them out, one by one to Scott, Allison and herself.

The pair before them decide to call it a night after the first half of their drinks diminish, leaving Stiles and Tegan to fend for themselves amongst the masses. There's a pong table being dominated by Jackson, at least whenever Lydia allows him a breather, in the corner. Tegan nudges Stiles in the ribs, her head nodding towards the game.

"I'm really good. Unfortunately." She laughs a little, her eyes anchoring with his, "You wanna be my partner?"

Stiles smiles, throwing the remainder of his drink down the back of his throat and nodding, "I suck so, yeah. Fair warning."

Jackson gives Stiles a hard time, the /whole/ time. It isn't until Tegan actually misses that she realizes that the cups are full of shots and not beer. Her lips pucker together at the same time her eyes squint until she gets it down.

"Who plays pong with shots!" She yells across the table at Jackson, her head shaking with a laugh.

"Awh, what's the matter? You can always forfeit!" Jackson grins cockily, his next shot going in perfectly.

Tegan's eyes lower as she attempts to carry she and Stiles through the next few games, at least until they're both missing high fives because there's two sets of hands floating around the other palm. She can't stop laughing, her cheeks matching the vibrant red that graces Stiles' as well. Her hand somehow makes its way around his torso, his arm nervously following suit by slinging around her shoulders and neck.

Stiles is too drunk to realize exactly what is happening at first, her free hand reaching up to meet his fingers until they're in a war to twine together. Tegan leans into him, still laughing at an angry Jackson who has all but flipped the table after losing a game of pong.

"Take me home", she whispers to his fingers, kissing his knuckles as she does.

He nods, the pair trampling across Lydia's front lawn towards the street. They walk past Stiles' jeep, leaving it to sit until morning when he had sobered up to drive. It takes so much longer than necessary for them to make it to Tegan's doorstep, though they had laughed the whole way. Mostly at the way Stiles couldn't produce a sentence without trying to retract half of it, his inability to form lucid words when he was under fire making for an entertaining walk for Tegan. She turns on her heel when they walk up the three steps to her door, her index finger instantly lifting to her lips to indicate their need for hushed voices.

"It's like two am, shh" she giggles, her hand giving Stiles' sternum a playful shove. He just smiles, swaying slightly against her push. There's a break of silence when Tegan finds herself distracted by his lips. She takes a step closer, their breaths forming hot clouds in the cool air. Stiles can't move, he's in disbelief of their proximity; he finds it hard to swallow as his eyes transfer back and forth from her plush mauve stained lips to her bright hazel eyes. Tegan's lets the fingers of her left hand curl into the hem of his shirt, her eyes still hazy from the alcohol she reaches up with the opposite hand and drags her thumb gently over his bottom lip.

"You have great lips..." she mutters, intoxicated on more than one level. Stiles' jaw comes unhinged when her finger tugs against his mouth, pulling his lips apart. When her thumb drops from his brims, his tongue rolls over both his lips to wet them. Their eyes meet, anchor into a comfortable stare, until their foreheads are touching. Tegan nudges his nose with hers, encouraging him to kiss her; both her arms snake around his neck, pulling him impossibly close to her frame. His own hands settle at her lower back, grabbing into the fabric of her shirt as they had earlier. Tegan's eyes flutter closed when she feels the top of his lip just barely reach hers...

His phone rings. On full volume. Stiles jumps back, struggling to remove the device from his pocket. It falls to the ground and he's bending down to pick it up to swipe across the screen to answer Scott's call.

"What!?" he tries not to raise his voice above a whisper, his eyes locking with Tegan's as he listen to the voice on the other end. "Dude...I swear to god. I'm gonna kill you. Murder you in your - yeah. Fine. Okay. I'll meet you there." He's almost instantly sobered, his hand shoving his phone back into the depths of his front pocket.

Tegan stands with her hands in her back pockets, feeling shot down. Her toe taps against the ground behind her as she sighs, "See you Monday?"

"Yeah...Look -"

"It's okay. Just...don't" She gives a half hearted smile before turning towards her door. "Night, Stiles."


	5. Chapter 5

Tegan's books scatter across the floor. Papers and notebooks shred and float off in every direction imaginable. She stands at her locker with her lips broken apart, eyes following a single piece of paper as it gets stuck on the bottom of someone's sneaker and sticks there as he walks away. There's people staring, not helping, just staring; so she gets down on her knees and begins to reach around for all her lost possessions. Her throat gets tight, eyes well up with the uncontrollable want to cry; it had been one of those days. No, one of those weeks. Her lips form a hard line on her face, teeth chattering inside her mouth as she does all she can to keep herself from tearing up. And then he's there, bent down in front of her with an arm full of notebooks and dirt covered papers. Tegan looks up at him, at Stiles, and just loses it. The bell rings at the same time she's got her hands flying up to cover her face, still bent down with her knees touching the floor as she starts to sob. Stiles looks up from his state of concentration on her belongings in shock, they drop from his hands in an instant. His fingers gently grab for her wrists, 'Hey. Whoa, Tegan. What's...' he trails off when she abruptly stands up, using the backs of her palms to push away lines from previously fallen tears. Stiles stands too, slowly, his features littered with concern. 'I'm okay. Just...I'm having a bad...everything.' Her hands go back to covering her face and quiet whimper bursts into them. Stiles is frozen for a moment, glancing around the now empty hallway just before he's wrapping both arms tightly around her shoulders; encasing her against his slender frame. He lets a palm glide cautiously up and down her back, his chin resting a top her skull. With a little protest from her brain, Tegan's arms slide out from between their bodies and wrap just as tightly around his torso. It's a few minutes before she wants to let go, and there's no way he could consider being the first one to back up. When she does finally drop her arms she lets a anxious laugh mix into the air between them. 'I didn't get enough sleep, or something. I don't know. Nightmares', her explanation is shaky and jumbled together for no apparent reason, since he hadn't really gotten the chance to ask. 'Nightmares? What kind of nightmares?' Stiles is too eager to learn about what's haunting her, considered in the this town they were usually realities. 'What? Just...nightmares.' Her eyes fall to the floor, her thoughts traveling back to her seemingly repetitive dreams.

Stiles has found her lack of communication frustrating from day one. His constant need for knowledge becoming an overwhelming barrier between the people he has sworn to help and his every day encounters. 'Okay. About certain things? How long have you been having them, what happens? Do they-'

'Stiles.' Tegan stammers out, breaking his never ending stream of questions, 'They're nothing. Stop worrying.'

The truth was, she couldn't really remember much about the dreams to begin with, but each time she would wake up in a cold sweat with an elevated heart rate; scared out of her mind and in a numbing state of pain. Just a few days ago she woke up with vibrant bruises surrounding her wrists and had to cover them with long sleeves until they faded enough to be concealed with makeup. Lack of sleep had become a serious factor.

Stiles nods, not wanting to press her further for information in her fragile state. A hand reaches for the back of his neck, scratching vigorously at absolutely nothing while he thinks. Her eyes have deep purple lines under them which have mixed with the black of her mascara to further highlight her lack of sleep. Heaving out a sigh, his hand drops back at his side before his next sentence is blurted out.

'I can take you home. My dad's working the day shift, you can get some sleep.'

Tegan's head tilts slightly and for the first time all day a smile graces her lips, 'You gonna cuddle me too, Stiles?' She's teasing, of course, but the rise it gets out of him is so worth it.

'I...uh...yeah. No, no. Unless that's what you want? ...What?' His palms have started to sweat and he's having the hardest time keeping his mouth closed, his tongue constantly darting out to wet over his lips.

With one last swipe of fingers under her eyes, Tegan simply nods and places a flat palm on his chest; her index finger giving a tap, 'Let's just go, weirdo.'


End file.
